


To Love and To Cherish

by OnlyTheInevitable



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Post-Original Series Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyTheInevitable/pseuds/OnlyTheInevitable
Summary: When Reyes hears a rumor that Mulder and Scully are back, she can't resist the urge to drag Doggett with her to find them. After reuniting, the newer couple tries to get relationship advice from the strongest couple they know - unaware of a looming presence that never seems to leave them alone. DRR, MSR
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, John Doggett & Monica Reyes, John Doggett/Monica Reyes
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47
Collections: X-Files Angst Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	To Love and To Cherish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bob79519](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bob79519/gifts).



> Hey Bob! I got you again :) I asked the fanfiction account to reach out to your twitter account (I didn't know you left) and ask if it was okay if I kept the canon just because so much of Doggett and Reyes' relationship was established around that time - and your friend said that was okay with a few conditions! I made sure to keep out any hints of the MSR breakup that I know you hate :) Thank you so much for being flexible and I hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> HUGE thank you to Annie and Valerie for beta-ing for me. You guys are the sweetest.

**2004**

If there was one tried and true constant in the Hoover Building it was that, no matter who came and went, the rumor mill would always keep turning. Usually there was a speck of truth in the speculations, sometimes they were outright lies, but the ones that stuck and were repeated over and over again past the normal lifespan of a standard rumor, those were worth something.

" _They let Agent Scully off the hook."_

" _Agent Scully's back."_

" _Agent Scully bought a big ol' house 'all to herself' out in the middle of nowhere."_

The sound of her friend's name made her freeze in place. They'd only really known each other a short time, only a little more than a year, yet Reyes felt so intimately bonded to Scully through the strange events that happened to them. John and she had gone through, what she presumed was, the hardest part of Dana's life. The death and return of Mulder, everything with her son, having to drop everything and leave; they were there for her through it all.

The last time she saw her in the middle of the desert, both of them panicked and drove their separate ways. John tried his best to convince her they were fine, that Mulder would never let anything happen to her, but she didn't feel the real relief until she saw the FBI posting. "Wanted: _Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, former Special Agents, on the run. Last seen in Roswell, New Mexico."_

_They got away._

From time to time over the past two years, she'd thought about them - curious as to what they were doing, where they were, if they were safe, but they were concerns that could only be voiced in private moments with John. Since they were known to be close to Scully, as soon as they returned, they were bombarded with questions.

" _I heard Agent Mulder abducted her."_

" _Do you know where they are?"_

That last question had been asked over and over again. By every higher up, every government official, and every fellow agent they passed by. Mulder and Scully's whereabouts had become an X-File in and of itself - they were a new species of cryptid. It had gotten to the point that she and John were broken records: "No, I don't know, but I hope they're safe."

They'd gotten in trouble for giving Mulder and Scully a heads up in the desert, but after a few weeks of suspension, they were back at the Hoover Building albeit reassigned. She didn't mind, as long as she got to see John.

During their suspension, they spent as much time together as possible, escalating quickly from close friends to so much more. Now, she was called into various departments to work as an occult specialist while John was assigned to Violent Crimes. Luckily, their two specialites often overlapped and she saw a lot of him at work.

"Did you hear?" she asked him after running into him in the hallway.

"Hear what?" he asked, slowing his pace so she could walk alongside him. They didn't necessarily need to be secretive about their relationship, but after having so many people prying into their business for so long, they preferred the game of keeping it to themselves.

"People are saying Scully's back, Mulder too probably," she whispered, not wanting to say it too loudly knowing an eavesdropper would take her word as gospel on the subject.

"Yeah, I'm sure they did," he chuckled, giving her a sly grin. "Remember last month when someone said they were in Alaska forging off the land?"

She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow. "Well, yeah, but this one actually sounds credible. They say she bought a house somewhere, a big house. As in too big for a single woman."

"So you're saying not only is Scully back, but Mulder's with her too and they're hiding out in a big house, not all that far from the people they're hiding from, and everyone knows it?" he deadpanned.

"Well…" she began uncertainly. When he put it like that it did sound kind of far fetched. "It feels plausible."

He stopped outside a doorway, tucking files under his arms so he could put his hand on her arm. "Listen, Mon, I know you miss her and are worried. I am too, but you can't get your hopes up. When you hear hoofbeats-"

"Think horses, not zebras," she finished defeatedly.

He gave her a sad smile and nodded. "Exactly." John looked both ways, making sure they were alone before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "I'll meet you at the car? You choose where to eat tonight, okay?"

"Okay," she conceded with a nod.

Monica felt him put a finger under her chin so she'd meet his eyes. "We'll see them again someday. I'm sure." She nodded and watched as he went into his meeting, closing the door behind him.

With a hearty sigh, she walked down the hall and tried to put the thought out of her mind. He was right, the chances of that being true were just hopeful thinking. She walked into the elevator and pressed her floor when two young, female agents joined her.

"I heard Skinner scouted the place for her."

"I heard he's in love with her."

Monica felt her ears perk up at the gossip, but she feigned playing with her nails to appear disinterested, turning to face the side of the wall so they wouldn't see her face. _Her?_

"What? No way, why would he help her find a house for her and her baby daddy if he was trying to get it in with her?"

"That's exactly why he would! It's like a total tragedy. Skinner knows she'll never love him back so he loves her the only way he can - by supporting her relationship with Spooky."

"Like a cuckold?"

" _Exactly."_

Monica inadvertently snorted while trying to hide her laughter at the women's speculation. Skinner had clearly been with Arlene for years, but the fact anyone would have the audacity to call him a cuckold let alone for Mulder and Scully was amusing.

Her smile faltered when she really thought of the man in question. If anyone was going to know where Mulder and Scully were, it was Skinner.

Monica turned around quickly and pressed the button for Skinner's floor, ignoring the stares she was now getting from the other women in the elevator.

She all but bolted when the elevator doors opened, passing by Arlene with a polite smile and barging into Skinner's office.

"Well hello to you too, Agent Reyes," he greeted with slight irritation.

"Is it true?" she asked, shutting the door behind her.

When she looked back at his face, the answer was written across his features plainly.

_Yes._

"Where are they?" she asked, walking up to him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Agent Reyes," he stated firmly. He feigned working for a moment under the heat of her glare before sighing in resignation and looking up at her. "She told me not to tell anyone," he sighed, clearly torn between which of the two women he was going to piss off, but luckily for her - she was here and Scully wasn't.

"Yeah, 'anyone' as in anyone who might blow their cover, she didn't mean us," she exclaimed.

He squirmed in his seat when she said 'they' and 'their' and he glanced around her to make sure the door to the office was actually shut. " _Agent Scully_ ," he began pointedly, "-enlisted my help in finding a place for _her_ to settle down since the FBI dropped the charges against her. _She_ wanted somewhere secluded where she wouldn't be bothered. You know how she values privacy."

As he said this, he pulled out a legal pad and wrote an address down before ripping the page off, handing it to her. She reached for it and he withdrew it from between her finger tips. Monica looked at him in confusion and he added firmly: "I'm only doing this because I know how much you were there for her. Destroy this when you're done. Make sure no one is following you when you inevitably rush off to go see her."

He offered her the slip of paper and she snatched it out of his hands quickly before he had a chance to retract it again. Excitement blossomed in her chest now that she had something tangible in her grasp. _She was going to see them again._ She couldn't keep the beaming smile off her face and Skinner's own mouth quirked in empathetic amusement. "Thank you, sir."

"If she gets mad, tell her you pulled your gun on me," he nervously joked.

Her only response was an enthusiastic nod before slipping out of the office. She held the note tightly in her grasp, waiting until she was in the seclusion of the elevator before opening it gently in front of her face.

_227700 Wallace Rd, Farrs Corner, VA, 22039_

* * *

"Ya know Mon, when I said you could pick somewhere to eat, I was thinkin' it would be, oh I dunno, within city limits," John remarked after she gave him another set of directions.

She knew if she'd told him immediately, he would have tried to prevent her from going. Inevitably he would have said something along the lines of 'they want to stay hidden for a reason' even though she knew he wanted to see they were safe just as much as she did.

"Well… we will be _eating_ within city limits…" she started slowly, trying to match the mile markers with the instructions she'd jotted down for herself before they left.

There was a moment of silence as he waited for her to continue, but when he was met with silence he replied, "I'm not following."

_Turn left from Henderson Road onto Wolf Run Shoals Road._

_4.1 miles down Wolf Run Shoals Road then turn left on Wallace Road._

"Turn left here," she interrupted, pointing in between a thicket of trees.

"But it says dead end," he argued, pointing to a sign.

Monica shuffled the papers on her lap and double checked, confirming what she'd written with the street signs. "No, it's here," she affirmed, pleased when he did what she asked.

"Monica, what're we doing?" he sighed, turning to glance at her skeptically. "Are you mad at me for leaving the toilet seat up, so you're taking me to a secluded location to teach me a lesson?

She laughed lightly and put her hand on his thigh. "I have other ways of convincing you to remember," she murmured in a low tone. "I just need to run an errand first. I wanted to check in on some old friends," she added, hoping her prior statement might distract him a bit. His smile faltered for a moment as he started understanding her meaning while she focused her attention on putting her cap onto her water bottle as the road became bumpy.

He groaned as he rubbed his hand over his face. "I told you, it's just office gossip," he proclaimed, realizing what she was doing.

"Not _just_ , I confirmed it. This is from Skinner," she explained, holding out the crumpled piece of legal pad with his scrawl on it.

He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at the address, sparing a pointed glance at her. "Have you considered the possibility they don't want visitors?"

"Have you considered the possibility they do?" she countered.

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and she knew she was going to win. "I love you, John, but if you were the only person I'd really had a conversation with for that long, a friendly face might be more than welcomed. And I know you miss-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he interrupted, waving his hand in the air to silence her. "Where's the next turn?"

* * *

Monica made him stop the car about a mile away, driving past the correct road just out of courtesy of Mulder and Scully's precautionary nature. They parked the car a little off the dirt road before making the trek hand in hand.

She wondered how Skinner found the place. It was only a little over half an hour from the Hoover Building, but it felt so secluded. I-395 turned into residential streets which turned into dirt paths and now they were walking on a long expanse of gravel leading up to a solidary house surrounded by trees.

"This is nice," John remarked, squeezing her hand tighter within his own.

She looked up at him and watched as his eyes scanned over the land, taking it in with obvious appreciation. "Is this something you'd like?" she asked softly.

Things had changed between them since their time on the X-Files. Losing the closeness of being work partners made them desire intimacy in a different type of partnership. While she recognized some might think they moved too fast, it just felt natural. They were living together, spending all their time together.

She loved him.

But even with how natural it felt, there were times they weren't the best at communicating. It was as if they were so happy with what they had, they were both afraid to push it too far and interrupt the balance.

But she wanted this. A life with him. A home with him. A family with him. She thought about it from time to time - when he looked at her in a way that made her heart feel overwhelmingly full or when they were content and warm in each other's arms. _I want this forever,_ she'd think to herself.

But did he want something like that? He'd already done it once. Would he not want a repeat?

"Something like this?" he prompted, gesturing to the quaint house off in the distance now being revealed, surrounded by a large expanse of green land.

She nodded in response and he continued. "Yeah. I think I would." He bumped her arm when he saw her smile and added softly, "But only if I wasn't alone."

"Never," she murmured softly, squeezing his hand.

They continued walking closer to the house, the gravel crunching under their feet until John stopped in his tracks and raised up a hand. "Do you hear that?"

Monica stopped in place and heard what he was referring to. It was a rhythmic, hollow thumping sound. She turned to him with a questioning look and he stated. "Sounds like someone's chopping wood." She raised her eyebrow and he sarcastically asked, "Think Scully's picked up a new hobby?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled at the idea of the barely over five foot, waif of a woman in the back wielding a hatchet. "With her ambition, who knows," she laughed, walking up the long expanse of the gravel path.

The wooden stairs creaked beneath her feet as they neared the porch door. "Mon, look," he whispered, grabbing her elbow gently.

She followed his gaze and saw a small table on the porch was littered with a copy of _Sports Illustrated_ and sunflower seeds. Their eyes met and she couldn't help but smile. _Mulder._ It wasn't that they truly had any doubts of whether he was here or not, but seeing the confirmation was a relief.

John raised his hand to the screen door and firmly knocked. There was a moment of silence as the whacking of wood splitting stopped and only the birds made sound. They heard what sounded like a back patio door open followed by random scuffling inside. Monica turned to John and saw him glancing at her with an amused smile.

They waited a few moments more and right when Monica raised her fist, the interior door swung open, revealing a frazzled, casually dressed Dana Scully separated only by a thin screen.

It was like a day hadn't passed since seeing her in the desert. She looked exactly as she had on that day. The only difference was her hair had grown out and she'd obviously tried to dye it brown while on the run, but now she had an inch of auburn roots sprouting.

There was a definite hint of panic on her face that Monica was all too familiar with from their time protecting William. The sound of a bump in the baby's room, the occasional footsteps of someone moving outside the door of her Georgetown apartment, it was the same expression of fear she saw now brought on by a similar circumstance - the fear of a loved one being in danger.

The expression quickly faltered into disbelief as she glanced from Monica to John, back to Monica and back to John. "Oh my god," she greeted breathlessly, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"I'll be damned, look at you," John exclaimed with boastful enthusiasm.

"Dana," Monica exhaled in a strained voice. She hadn't realized just how much she'd truly missed her friend until she was right in front of her.

Scully fumbled with the locks on the door before tumbling out and hugging them both. Monica closed her eyes as Scully wrapped her arms around Monica, the crown of her head coming up to the other woman's chin. Monica let her head fall forward and squeezed her tightly. The smell of her hair instantly took Monica back to her old apartment where they'd spent hours upon hours hanging out and watching William.

When Scully let go she took a step back and looked at them both fondly, wiping away an errant tear that escaped down her cheek. "Wh-How did you guys find me?" she asked, clearly having a thousand questions running through her mind.

"There were rumors you came back and I strong-armed it out of Skinner," Monica explained.

Scully glanced around behind them with a furrowed brow. "And so you walked here?" she asked.

"Drove," John corrected. "But we parked a mile back off a dirt road and made sure we weren't being trailed."

A smile of gratitude took over her worry, and Scully visibly relaxed. "Are the rumors compelling or run of the mill?" she asked.

"Well," Monica began, remembering vividly the word cuckold being mentioned in one retelling. "Nothing that would really spark any more suspicion than normal. I'm just easily excitable and asked Skinner since I knew he'd be the only one you'd tell."

"Easily excitable's right," John murmured under his breath.

Instead of smiling, a look of guilt crossed Scully's face. "I wanted to tell you. We'd just been on the run for so long, we were nervous about even reaching out to one person," she explained, her eyes shifting back and forth between the two of them.

John raised a hand up to stop her with a gentle firmness. "You don't need to explain. You did what was best for you guys."

She looked relieved by this absolution and she took a step backwards to gesture inside. "I'm sorry, I haven't really spoken to anyone besides Mulder for so long. I've apparently lost my manners, please come in."

They took a step in and Monica was struck by how normal the house was. It wasn't that she expected to walk aboard a spaceship or anything, but it was so domestic. It was a bit cluttered with bric a brac, but after having worked in the basement for years, that was to be expected. What she really noticed were the small signs of a couple living together - a large blanket haphazardly thrown on the leather-worn sofa, two mugs sitting empty on the coffee table, some boxers and silk pyjamas tangled together in the corner of the room in a heap.

"Speaking of Mulder, where is he?" John asked, glancing around the place.

"Oh shit," she gasped. "I'll be back, make yourselves at home," she threw over her shoulder as she bounded up the stairs.

They both simultaneously started innocently wandering around, keeping respectful distance from all the personal items while still taking them in. It was as if they were in a museum, but the art was the daily life of Mulder and Scully.

They continued their silent admiration for a few minutes, occasionally accompanied by some thuds from upstairs, until Monica's attention fell onto an exotic animals calendar. "Find something good, Mon?" John asked from across the room, the floorboards creaking as he walked towards her.

"Do you remember what year Mulder was born?" she asked, raising her hand to the indents of red pen marring the glossy page.

"1961," he replied off the top of his head. "A year younger than me, why?" he asked.

She was silent for a moment, doing some calculations before exclaiming. "Mulder's a thirteen!"

"Is that on a scale from one to ten?" a familiar male voice asked from the top of the stairs before Mulder made his way down the stairs, Scully coming down afterwards. "I'm flattered," he added as he descended the last step.

"Agent Mulder," Monica beamed with a smile. There was a slight twinge of awkwardness since she and John hadn't interacted as much with Mulder. They were friendly with him, but it wasn't the same level of intimacy they shared with Dana. Whereas her first instinct was to embrace Dana in her arms, she wasn't sure how to act with him.

Luckily John greeted him with a strong bro-hug and pat on the back and eased the tension. "Just Mulder, Agent Reyes," he corrected, shooting her a friendly smile.

"Just Monica," she countered. He was very similar to Scully in that his hair was the only thing different from his physical appearance. He hadn't dyed it, but he was sporting facial hair she'd never seen on him before.

"Were you off playing hide-and-seek?" John asked, motioning up towards the stairs.

Mulder and Scully looked at each other with an embarrassed grimace. "Well, we figure there's a possibility someone might come here trying to find him, so we've tried implementing a plan for him to hide at the spur of the moment," Scully explained.

"Sorry, I would have called if I'd known about our visit prior to pulling onto your street," John deadpanned. "She really wanted to be discreet."

"I'm sorry for springing th-" she began, only for Mulder to brush off her concern.

"No, no. I appreciate it. We haven't had an opportunity for a real 'drill', if you will, so this was a good learning opportunity," he explained, rubbing his arm in apparent pain.

"So what's this I hear about me being a thirteen?" he asked with a playful lilt, changing the topic abruptly.

"Still up to your Numerology party tricks I see?" Scully quipped, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Mulder's eyebrows raised in intrigue at the word and he watched with apt attention as she pointed to his birthday on the calendar. "You're a thirteen."

"Yeah my birthday's the thirt-" he began.

"No, well, yes. It is the thirteenth, but taking that number into consideration with the tenth month and your birth year, you're a thirteen. Doing the calculations, your base number is a four, but your natural form is a thirteen so that takes precedence. That's a karmic debt number," she beamed excitedly.

"What does that mean?" Scully asked, cocking her head.

"The thirteen Karmic Debt number indicates there is likely to be a constant and steady stream of unforeseeable and unavoidable hurdles and stumbling blocks, which can leave you with feelings of frustration, irritation, defeat and desperation. One needs to be wary of giving up too soon, of becoming complacent, lazy, and pessimistic. Often, the harder the challenge, the greater the reward, and so there is much potential for great success here; you simply have to work harder and strive forward with focus and determination to reach your goals,' she explained, only after noticing everyone's confused stares after she was done.

"I feel like I just went to a fortune teller," Mulder deadpanned. "Or had the inside of a fortune cookie read to me," he added with a playful smile.

"Is that… good?" Dana asked, confused.

"What's Scully?" Mulder asked at the same time, pointing to her.

"A nine," Dana replied immediately, smiling at Monica from the admission that she did indeed remember that late night phone call.

"Is a nine good?" he prompted, more invested in her reading than he was his own.

"Nine is completion. You've evolved through the experiences of all the other numbers to a spiritual realization that this life is only part of a larger whole," she explained, much like she had back then. "Nine can effortlessly synthesize large quantities of stimuli, psychically connecting the dots to form a cohesive whole. Nine must learn to balance the abstract with the tangible, ultimately finding its place at the intersection of fantasy and reality."

"Hey, that sounds like you," he laughed, bumping her with his arm.

"They're both good. Usually nines and thirteens aren't compatible, but rarely, when they are, it becomes obvious over time," she explained with a smile gesturing to them. "It's said to be an extremely filling and rewarding match, albeit intense at times. Some would say, a perfect match. It is so rare a match that, for the couples who are successful, all the other numbers in their systems are so strongly connected that they are able to triumph over the odds."

The couple smiled at each other fondly while John cleared his throat. "While this is very interesting, I must say I'm a little more interested in hearing what the hell happened to you two while you were off being fugitives."

* * *

John didn't really know Agent Mulder. Well, that wasn't entirely true. In regards to demographic data, he was an expert on the subject of Fox William Mulder from having to search for him after his abduction. But as a person, they had rarely spent any time together.

But now ever since Monica dragged them there that day and they all reconnected, they were visiting quite frequently under the guise of going out on a fugitive-positive double date, also known as hanging around their house, and it always seemed like the women would seclude themselves off in their own conversation and he and Mulder were left to their own devices.

He had to say, despite Mulder being portrayed as this hard-to-know guy, John found him very easily agreeable. For a while at the beginning, when conversation was hard, they'd just fix something around the house together. Mulder liked the help and John liked doing something with his hands. Then one day they put up a basketball hoop in the back, and their newest thing to do when they were excluded from the women's conversation was to go out back with some beers and shoot hoops.

He could tell this was a bit new for Mulder. He wasn't sure if it was just so long hanging out with only Scully or if he wasn't used to having a guy friend, but he could sense this meant a lot to Mulder, he even seemed a bit nervous from time to time - as if he wasn't sure when the time would come where they'd get close enough for John to leave. But he didn't.

It meant a lot to him too, though - he hadn't expected the man to be such a good sounding board.

After the first few months of coming over, their conversations had turned from the weather and sports to how they were actually feeling and different things that were on his mind. As much as he wouldn't even have considered it years ago, Mulder was one of his only good friends. Which is why he felt comfortable enough to blurt out something he'd only said to himself before.

"I'm thinking of asking Monica to marry me."

The suddenness of the statement made Mulder miss his shot, resulting in the ball hitting the hoop and bouncing away. Mulder turned to him with a beaming smile and patted him on the back, "Hey man, congratulations."

John smiled as he walked over and picked up the ball, dribbling it a little bit as he thought. "I know it sounds a little hokey but uh," he paused, bouncing the ball once more. "I'm nervous."

"Are you kidding? She's head over heels for you," Mulder replied with an incredulous grin.

"Ya think so?" he asked, sending a shot and grinning as it went straight through, hitting only the net.

Mulder retrieved the ball and took over his spot as he explained, "I do. I think you guys make a great couple."

"Thanks," he chuckled appreciatively.

"Why're you nervous?" Mulder asked, taking another shot.

"I just-" he paused, looking through the glass door to make sure no one was listening. The laughter emanating from inside told him it was okay to go on. "-I've already fucked up once before."

Instead of going to get the ball, Mulder turned towards him with his hands on his hips. "John, I don't mean to overstep, but you lost a child. That's a hard thing for couples to come back from, you can't blame yourself for that."

It was one of the unspoken things that bonded them most. Samantha. Luke. The pain of a lost child leaving a lifelong scar. "I just totally shut down. I wasn't there emotionally for my first wife when she needed me," John explained, rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Does Monica know that?" he asked.

"Yeah, hell. She saw it first hand," he laughed humorlessly.

"And here she still is, wanting to be with you despite knowing that," Mulder replied, kicking up the ball with the top of his foot. "Do you think Monica would be the type to pursue a relationship with you if she didn't think you'd grown from the man you were?"

"I didn't think about it like that," he mused.

Mulder laughed and tossed him the ball. "I promise you, self-pity is a default of mine, but I trust Scully more than anything in the entire universe. She's told me time and time again over the years, no matter what awful case I was dragging her to, that she wouldn't be anywhere she didn't _want_ to be and… I've learned that includes being with me. As much as I can think she deserves so much better, I trust she's making the right choice for herself, all I can do is be grateful that choice is being with me and do my hardest to prove her right," Mulder explained humbly.

"Damn," he exhaled, impressed and slightly moved by Mulder's honesty.

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't be nervous. If she didn't love you, she wouldn't have put up with you for this long," he replied.

"You're a good man, Mulder," he replied with a smile before shooting another basket.

"You too. I'm a little jealous of you too."

"Of me?" Doggett responded with a huff of laughter.

"Yeah. You have the balls to ask her," he smirked.

* * *

"It's beautiful, Monica," Dana beamed for the umpeenth time today, gazing at Monica's ring finger.

John asked her to marry him last night. She still could hardly believe it.

"Thank you," she giggled happily, flexing her finger to watch it catch the light as they swung on the porch swing.

"Did you expect it?" she asked.

"I always hoped he would, I didn't want to push him, but I wasn't sure. It took me by surprise though, I mistook his nerves for being ill so I was concerned while he was trying to be sweet," she replied, smiling at the thought of John's trembling and stammering.

They sat there for a while in content happiness, rocking back and forth on the swing as the gentle breeze rolled over the tall grass to greet them. "You know, we're going to have to invest in a good disguise. Mulder's really taken to John, he's not going to want to miss the wedding," Scully chuckled, her eyes closed as she basked in the day.

"I'm anxious about my vows," she admitted, rolling the ring around her finger.

"Monica, you have over a year for that," she chastised, peeking her eyes open to look at her.

"I know, but I'm an awful procrastinator, Dana. You would have put me to shame, even in grad school I waited until the last minute to start on my exam papers. I can't do that with this, it's too important," she rambled.

"You're right, if you don't meet the sentence quota he'll turn around," she joked.

Monica chuckled and nudged Dana's phone with her own. "I'm serious!"

"Okay, sorry," Dana smiled. "What're you worried about?"

"I just-how can I put the depths of my feelings into words accurately? I love that man with all my heart and no hyperbolic phrase or poetic expression seems to encompass my emotions. I want him to know how much I love him. That I will always be there for him through thick and thin," she mused. "Thinking about his face being the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I see when I go to bed makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world. I feel like I've won the lottery and it's all because of him."

When she was finished, there was a pause of silence. She turned her head to look at Dana and saw the shorter woman looking back at her with wide eyes and an exaggerated pouty lip. "Monica," she began, her lips curling at the corners. "You're asking _me_ for help? That was beautiful. You could just use that and he'd never question how you felt."

Monica felt a blush spring up on her cheeks. "You're too kind."

"I'm being honest. Your ability to express yourself like that," she murmured before letting out a low breath.

"What?" she prompted.

"I guess Mulder and I are a bit unconventional. It took us seven years to even kiss. I'm just happy you both aren't beating around the bush. Life's too short," Scully mused with a smile.

"Do you think you and Mulder would ever get married?" she asked.

A small, wistful smile played on Scully's lips as a breeze blew her hair back. "Maybe one day."

* * *

**2005**

" _You will die a lonely old man," Monica had stated with conviction._

" _Oh, I don't think so, Monica. Now that I have you to light my smokes," the smoking man smirked._

She threw up after that meeting. The sickly sweet smell of cigarette smoke coating her throat and permeating her clothes.

John had asked her if she went to a bar, and for the first time in their whole relationship, she lied to him.

C.G.B. Spender had asked her to visit a week later to give her official answer. He'd told her that if she worked with him that he'd spare her life. However, every night when she got into bed with John, her answer became more certain. _I'd rather die._ She'd rather die than voluntarily give up the life she'd worked so hard for only to stand by that foul bastard.

As the day of the meeting came and she was walking down the hallway to his hospital room, her resolution became a steady rhythm in her mind, entwined with her footsteps on the linoleum and with the beating of her heart.

_I'd rather die._

_I'd rather die._

_I'd rather die._

"So Monica," he greeted, her first name sounding like a slur on his lips. "Have you made your decision?"

"I refuse. What you have to offer doesn't tempt me," she stated plainly, proud that her anxiety wasn't making itself known through her tone.

"Hmm," he mused, touching the plastic railing of his bed. "How disappointing."

She stood there for a while, watching him in disgust. Even though he'd just spoken, they both knew the ball was still in his court. She wanted to leave, but she didn't want to turn her back on a ticking bomb.

"You took off your ring," he stated plainly, making her blood run cold.

"Excuse me?" she stated, her voice wavering ever so slightly on the last word.

His attention turned from the side of the bed to look her straight in the eye. Even the small contact felt like a violation and she had to repress a shudder. "Don't you think that might hurt John's feelings? He spent a long time picking that out," he mused with feigned disappointment.

She pulled it out of her pocket and slipped it on her finger. "Better?" she snapped.

"I've always been perplexed by technicalities," he stated out of the blue, his voice wheezing slightly.

"Such as?" she prompted.

"If a fiancee is entitled to the status of 'widow'," he questioned innocently, a wicked smile creasing his face.

She felt like her whole body was going numb and she could hear a ringing in her ears. "Don't," she muttered weakly. It was all she could get out.

"I said if you agreed to work with me I'd spare your life," he reminded her. "There are other ways to destroy it than killing you."

Her mind flashed to John. The sweet man who was probably getting off work now, getting take-out from their favorite place so he could go back to their home and spend a nice evening together. "Bastard," she gritted through clenched teeth.

"Am I? I'm giving you an opportunity to help your precious friend Dana and that sweet little baby of hers," he shrugged.

"Why do you need me? Why can't you get someone else?" she asked selfishly.

"You have potential, Monica," he smiled. "So what's it going to be?"

"If I say yes, you'll leave John alone?" she asked softly.

"If you agree, John will live the rest of his life unharmed," he agreed.

She swallowed thickly as she recalled their earlier conversation. "Will you give him the immunity you were talking about?"

A predatory grin crept on his face, his eyes twinkling like a lion amused by the lamb in his sights. "You're already impressing me, Monica. Sure, I agree to your terms. Join me and John Doggett's life is spared and he will be amongst the chosen few, though he won't be aware."

She bit her cheek to keep her lip from trembling and she seethed. "Okay."

"You'll start immediately. We're leaving tomorrow morning. Be here at 6am," he commanded, hospitality leaving now that she was firmly in his grasp.

She felt another wave of dread wash over her, "Wait-"

"There will be sacrifices to this, Monica. Effectively, you belong to me," he stated definitively. "Enjoy your last night with him."

* * *

He'd find something to do with her clothes and the rest of her stuff. Maybe he'd throw it all out. Maybe he'd ask Dana what to do. Maybe there'd be a cardboard box labelled 'Monica' next to the one labelled 'Luke' in the closet.

She effectively blocked out the memories of her visit with Spender for the entire night. She wanted to enjoy this. They ate, they laughed, they made love, and now John was sleeping upstairs, entangled in sheets that smelled like her as she stood at the kitchen counter with a pen and a trembling hand.

These words weren't good enough. The page was filled with x's and scratched out sentiments, yet no matter how many times she tried to re-word her thoughts, they all came out wrong. She wanted to go back. She hadn't kissed him enough times to last for the rest of her life. She wanted to go back to that day a weird number called her and she wanted to let it go to voicemail. She wanted a redo.

But what she wanted didn't matter anymore.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve and ripped the paper out of the legal pad, bringing it over to a wall where it would be visible and taping it so he'd see it when he woke up and went looking for her.

_Dearest John,_

_I find it hard to express how I feel about you in words. I love you with all my heart and soul combined. Every time-worn expression of love seems insignificant to what I feel for you - how you make me feel when I am with you. I am eternally and forever yours._

_I will be there for you through thick and thin, though it likely won't feel like it to you. You will always be the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last thing I see when I go to bed, but even then, I know my heart will ache for you constantly throughout everyday. You are my everything._

_You are the best man I'll ever know. Knowing you're alive is all that keeps me going. Please never forget that. I hope if you ever learn of what I've done, you could find it in your heart to forgive me._

_You'll never know how sorry I am._

_Forever yours,_

_Monica_

She gave the note one last glance and her throat started to close up as she imagined John's face when he read it.

And just like that, she grabbed her bag, and left the only life she'd ever wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to the website seventhlifepath and allure for the numerology information


End file.
